Happy Thoughts
by The Clock Strikes Thirteen
Summary: "Lucy Darling, ever the voice of reason, did not trust the boy that flew into her sibling's nursery. She especially did not trust the place he took them shortly afterward. There was something wrong with him, and she had to admit that the captain sitting opposite to her spoke sense. He wanted to help her. "It's simple." She said. "Just think happy thoughts."" Hook/OC


_**Prologue: Leather and Gold**_

Lucy Darling coughed into her sleeve as the automobile slowed to a halt. The thick, yellow smoke curled in the dim, morning lamplight. Above her head, the early sky was stained a medium gray. It had been quite some time since Lucy had seen the sun, and she could honestly say that she missed it.

"Hurry along now, sweet." The little girl down from the sky when she heard the tinkling voice of her mother, accompanied with the sound of a warm smile. Sure enough, there she was, clad in a pink gown with her chocolate hair piled up on her head in a delicate bun. Lucy smiled back and tilted her head to the side, looking for the kiss in the corner of her mother's mouth that her Aunt Millicent often spoke of.

As usual, however, the six year-old could not catch a glimpse of it. She never understood how a kiss could hide in someone's mouth, and doubted she ever would. Nevertheless, she took her mother's hand and obediently followed her towards the shops. Behind her, she heard her newborn sister gurgling in her father's arms.

Wendy Darling had entered the world only a year before, much to the disdain of then five year-old Lucy. She detested the thought of her mother playing the piano, and her father singing, for someone else. But despite her frequent and slightly irritating whining, her little sister still found her way into their family portrait.

Just as she had suspected, little Wendy monopolized her mother and father's time for the first six months. Lucy was miserable that her only friend was St. Bernard named Nana, but still enjoyed playing with her while her family cooed over the baby in the pram.

Lucy thought that Wendy was remarkably dull for the most part, even as she walked down the street, clasping her mother's hand. She wished that her father was there beside her, holding her other hand the way they used to, but instead he lagged behind, watching his newest baby girl cackle and almost scream with excitement.

"A bit of help, dearest?" He called to his wife, who looked over shoulder at him with a pitying smile. Lucy wanted to wail when her mother pulled her hand away from her, but she didn't dare. If she made father angry, the entire day could be ruined.

Despite that Lucy harbored a great dislike for her little sister, she did not wish to ruin her birthday. Today, little Wendy was a year old, and they were going to find her a present.

Lucy watched as her mother rushed to her husband and gently pried the squirming infant from his industrial-strength hold. He didn't want to drop his darling Wendy Darling. The six year-old felt a bit of a pain inside her chest as she looked at what could have been a very happy family. Her parents were doting over their baby, oblivious to their eldest child, who screamed and kicked when she did not get her way.

They didn't need her.

She could have run, right then and there. She could have surrendered what little hop she had left of being the center of attention again and sprinted off into the dark. Lucy was faster than most girls her age, they would never notice she was gone. She turned on her heel, glancing over her shoulder at the perfect family portrait and taking a step in the opposite direction.

The pain in her chest became a bit worse and she moved back, turning around. It was in that moment that her father looked up, staring right after. He hesitated a bit before smiling at her, depositing his child into his wife's arms and walking towards his eldest. Lucy smiled back with enough light in her eyes to power every lantern in London.

She giggled and her father lifted her up from the ground, spinning her around. She felt a bit dizzy, but she didn't care.

"Good gracious, Lucy," Her father said before putting her back on the ground. "You're growing so fast." She nodded, happy with the compliment. She couldn't wait to grow up, to become far more interesting than her dull sister.

"When will my birthday be, father?" She asked. Her short-term memory was not the best that it could be, her father knew.

"Very soon, my dear. In June." He said and she nodded. She looked down at her feet where a thin layer of snow-covered the sidewalk. It was only November, she would not be seven for some time.

"Shall we go to the toy shop, father?" She asked and his smile returned. He nodded and took her left hand, just as he always did.

"Mary." He said in a voice that told his wife to catch up. She did and immediately reached for Lucy's right hand, carefully holding Wendy in the crook of her arm so not to drop her.

She was surprised, to say the very least. Here she was, holding hands with her mother and father as though nothing had changed. They did not swing her back and forth between them as they did before, but that was only because her mother feared for Wendy's safety. Still, it was almost as good.

The little girl smiled as she heard a bell tinkle above her head as they walked into the shop. All around her were warm lights and bright colors. She smiled and let go of her mother's hand, pulling her father deeper into the little shop. There were toy automobiles and round hoops in one corner, along with silly looking clown poppets. There was a large, stuffed elephant next to a large stack of cards.

Lucy recalled her parents playing cards in the parlor with her aunt Millicent. It looked quite fun, although it lasted several hours. Lucy doubted she would be able to keep still.

Wendy seemed particularly entranced by the high shelf above the counter where the shopkeeper stood. On it, lined up in a row, were beautiful china dolls. They looked down at the little baby with cold, glass eyes and painted smiles. Lucy quite liked them, but had several dolls at home already. While Wendy gurgled at a lovely little dolly with blonde ringlets and a pink dress, Lucy released her father from her vice-like grip and ran further into the shop. She held on to her hat as not to lose it as she passed by rocking horse and tiny doll houses.

She knew where she was going, it seemed, and her mother knew too. She handed Wendy to her husband once again and made her way towards the back of the shop. Sure enough, her daughter sat on a small chair next to a large bookshelf, with an open story book in her lap.

"Oh, Lucy." She said under her breath, making the little girl look up and beam. "You have so many picture books already, do you need another one?" Mary asked and the little girl nodded.

"Yes, mother. I finished Cinderella some time ago!" Mary sighed and went to sit down on the small chair beside her eldest daughter. Clenched in her hands was a beautiful book, bound in a dark brown leather. The little girl closed it gently, running her pale fingers over the gold lettering.

"_Peter Pan_?" Her mother asked and Lucy nodded.

"It's very good mother, I read the first few pages." Mary looked towards the front of the shop where George was struggling with Wendy as she clutched the doll she had chosen.

"But it is not your birthday, love." She told her, knowing that George would be cross if she gave in. Mary loved her husband dearly, but the man was a banker through and through. He would not be pleased if she said yes without his consent.

"Please mama?" Lucy asked. Mary Darling knew that the only time her child called her mama was when she wanted something, usually because it made her say yes.

"Ask your father." She replied and the little girl beamed before practically jumping down from the chair and running towards her father, the book clutched to her chest.

In the end, both daughters left with something they held dear. Wendy had her doll, and Lucy had her book. It was the very book that brought the two sisters closer together, and it happened one cold night in the nursery.

"Oh, do be quiet!" Lucy shouted from the seat she had taken on her bed. In her lap was the very same book she had bought from the toy shop Wendy was now two years old and spent most of her time crying. It was a mystery why she had refused to speak since then, as Lucy would not shut up from the time she could walk.

And walk Wendy did, and it was very difficult to keep an eye on her. She hardly ever stopped squirming about, writing like a little worm with two big, blue eyes. Those eyes got her out of all sorts of trouble, and would fill with tears on command.

"Would you like me to read you a story?" Lucy ended up asking. Later, she would blame it on a fit of madness, as she normally did not let her younger sister anywhere near her precious books. But on that night, something possessed the then seven year-old into crawling down from her bed and walking towards Wendy, who lay in a heap next to her dolls.

She was quite cross because Nana had decided that it was a good idea to lick her favorite doll's hair. Mother was having it washed as Wendy was crying, but she missed her favorite friend terribly. Although, when Lucy asked if she wanted to hear a story, Wendy found it in her to stop her mourning. The two year-old nodded, wiping her eyes with the hem of her nightdress. Lucy stood with her hands on her hips and a book clutched under her arm.

"Very well." Lucy said. "Once upon a time there was a poor little girl named Lucy who had to look after her horrid little sister every night while her mother and father went to parties." She did not know where the story was coming from, but the sad look Wendy gave to her pushed her to continue. "And they never let her stay up to visit them.

"One night, Lucy was quite fed up and so she snuck downstairs to find her sisters favorite doll to stop her from crying. While she was gone, the horrible sister destroyed her favorite story book!" Lucy was clutching _Peter_ _Pan _ quite tightly now. "But when her parents came home, they scolded her for being out of bed and did not care about her book. So Lucy sold her little sister to Gypsy's and lived happily ever after!"

Wendy was crying louder than she ever had before. So loud was she that she heard her Great Aunt Millicent downstairs waking from her nap. Lucy sighed and sat next to her distraught little sister, pulling out her favorite book and placing it in front of her.

"Oh very well." She whispered to the sobbing girl. "I apologize. That was not a very good story." Wendy looked at the book in wonder and Lucy opened. "Now this is a very good story." Wendy watched the beautiful pictures as Lucy read every word with passion. When she went to put the book away on the shelf, she felt a hand grab her nightdress. Lucy turned to see her little sister clutching the hem of her nightgown.

"Lucy, another." The little girl said and her older sister's eyes widened.

"Cinderella or Snow White?" She asked in a quivering voice, letting a smile pull on the corners of her kiss-less mouth.


End file.
